The Distance in Between
by Cocoa987
Summary: Wendy wasn't the first lost girl. Mary was. Wendy wasn't Peter's first love. Mary was. Wendy could never convince Peter to leave Neverland. Mary? It was the hardest choice he ever made. Wendy never had to choose between Peter and another love. Mary did.


**A couple quick notes- you're getting 6,500 words of story so you can put up with it.**

**A Christmas present, for my bestie Jedigirl, and for RainbowAquila, who is just plain awesome.**

**I know I've promised this foreeever…and now, I finally have it! 95% of this has been written in the past 48 hours, and I have no idea when I'll get another chance like this, so keep that in mind.**

**And one thing to clarify- Poppy and Mary are the same person. **

**Poppy is Mary as more of a child.**

**Mary is…Mary, as we all know and love her.**

**And yes….in this bit it's Mary Poppins x SOMEONE OTHER THAN BERT. Sue me. But this isn't Mary as we know her. Not exactly. Don't worry: Bert'll show up first thing in Part II. I promise.**

**Disclaimer: I own the Mary Poppins video AND The Peter Pan video! And also the Peter Pan book by Mr. Barrie. But that's all I own. I don't even own the lyrics at the end, although I have the song on my iPod. I DO own the three Lost Boys I bothered to name.**

Part I: Neverland

Peter Pan soared over the skies, waving cheerfully at Captain Hook. Hook fired three quick shots at him, which he dodged nimbly, crowing in delight. His cheer faded when he saw the small figure tied to the mast of Hook's ship. Hook laughed cruelly when he saw Peter's face drop.

"What now, boy?" He yelled, shooting off another round of cannons. Peter zigzagged around them without a second thought, coming in closer to the ship every time he swerved. Peter soared up, up, up until he was just above the ship, balancing on the tip of the crow's nest.

Before the watch could sound the alarm, Peter poked him none-too-gently in the chest, sending him toppling off the crow's nest and down into the sea. Tinkerbelle lit onto his shoulder and doubled over in laughter, her giggles tinkling like windchimes. Peter shushed her, hiding a smile himself.

"There's someone down there!" He said quietly. Tink flew down and darted around the mast. The news she brought back surprised even Peter.

"A girl?" He asked. Tink chattered on, her words becoming faster and higher-pitched in the excitement. "A Lost Girl? Girls don't get lost. They're too smart to get lost."

But now Peter was curious. Peter always needed to discover things. He was forever the age where he wanted to know everything. That's exactly the way he wanted to keep it. He would never never never grow up.

So Peter leaped off the crow's nest and dropped down to the deck, teasing the crew and laughing at Hook's slack-jawed expression. He unsheathed his dagger and cut through the ropes in one quick slash, freeing the girl. He grabbed her under the arms and took off, maneuvering just a bit more carefully as to not harm his cargo.

Peter landed just out of range and set the girl down on a rock. He stepped off the rock and floated carefully in front of her, looking at her for the first time.

She looked to be about four years old, a few years younger than Peter but by no means the youngest of the Lost Boys. She had black hair and piercing blue eyes. The girl held herself with a kind of poise Peter rarely saw in children; yet, as she stumbled forward, it was clear she wasn't as graceful as she appeared.

"Hello, boy," she said, tilting her head to look up at him curiously. He was a good foot taller than her, but the rock was low and Peter was being buoyed by the wind. She snapped her fingers and rose a few inches off the ground, until she could see his face. Peter's eyes widened for a moment, and the girl giggled.

"H-Hello," he said at last. "I'm Peter. Peter Pan."

"Mary Poppins," the girl told him, falling back to the ground with another giggle. Peter grabbed her hand instinctively to keep her from falling into the water. She gave his hand a hard yank and he went toppling onto the rock beside her.

"I'm Peter Pan," he said, forgetting that he had already said that.

Mary blinked as Tinkerbell flitted over to land on his shoulder again. "Hello there," she breathed, her eyes fixed on the small figure. "Who are you?" Tinkerbell leaned off his shoulder and examined her more closely, before rattling something off in the fairy language that Peter didn't quite catch.

To his surprise, Mary blinked and then said quite nonchalantly, "I'm sorry. I didn't think I was going to get caught by-" here she broke off and shuddered. "Him," she finished. Tinkerbell replied, and Peter felt that he should break in here.

"You can- understand her?" Mary blinked owlishly at him.

"Of course," she said in her girlish voice. Peter took this in and shrugged. It wasn't the first surprise of the day, and it wouldn't be the last.

"Come on, let's go before Hook decides to come after us." Mary nodded eagerly and leaped off the rock, dropping a foot or two before leveling off. The bottoms of her black shoes dripped water as she rose quickly, leaving Peter to wonder what he had just gotten himself into.

"Aren't you coming?" She called in a loud whisper- obviously thinking it wouldn't attract Hook's attention. Peter smiled wickedly, and then shot off the rock and under the little girl, swooping up in front of her.

"Come on!" he called, once he was safely in front of her. Mary's eyes narrowed, and she stuck out her tongue at him. Peter's grin grew.

"Where are we going?" she asked as they darted across the sky. Peter looped once, and then angled himself down.

"We're going to meet the boys, of course!" And down they flew.

*

Mary sat on one side of the campfire, while all the other Lost Boys sat on the other side, staring at her curiously.

"Gentlemen!" Peter crowed, sitting cross-legged in the air just out of reach of the flames. The boys snapped to attention. There were five or six of them at this time- Mary couldn't keep them straight yet.

"Meet your new sister."

"Sister!" One of them cried. Mary glared.

"Her name is... what's your name?" Peter asked, glancing over his shoulder at the smaller figure.

"Mary. Mary Poppins." Peter's brow furrowed, and he spun around to examine her more closely, nearly burning the bottoms of his pants in the process.

"Well that won't do," he muttered, almost to himself. "It sounds too grown-up. How about... Poppy?" He grinned suddenly. "Poppy? Yeah! Like 'Poppins', but not. There. Gentlemen! Meet your new sister. Her name is Poppy."

Mary- Poppy- studied the flames, and then trotted straight over them, walking neatly around Peter mid-air and arriving at the feet of the other boys.

"Hello." she said brightly. One of the boy's mouths had fallen open, and she giggled.

*

Mary- Poppy- raced through the tall grass of the meadow, stumbling once and giggling softly. Floppy, one of her new best friends, helped her up and the two hurried off once more.

The group was playing hide-and-go-seek, and Peter was seeking. Poppy knew he'd cheat, given the first chance, so she enlisted Tinkerbell to keep him busy. Peter was fascinating, but he sometimes forgot that he could fly. Poppy wanted to keep it that way, at least for a while.

Floppy pulled her left, and the two went crashing into a bush. They both landed on the ground and tumbled backward, smashing into no less than three lost boys who had also made this bush their hiding spot. Poppy rolled her eyes and smiled.

"You're silly," she informed the rag-tag bunch solemnly. Floppy nodded eagerly, his hat nearly flying off his head.

"Sure!" A boy named Breezy quickly clapped a hand in front of Floppy's mouth. Floppy glared, and would have retaliated had Poppy not shushed them and gestured quietly to the grass moving just outside the bush.

The group quieted, watching Peter's movements warily. Peter crept by, peeking around in the grass curiously. A shot rang out in the distance, and Peter's attention was gone.

His head whipped the other way so quickly the group could have sworn that they heard his neck crack. Mary felt a smile crossing her face as Peter darted off in the completely opposite direction. Floppy giggled, and hands were immediately clapped in front of his mouth.

Too late, it seemed, for Peter whirled back around and hopped forward, leaning toward the bush and drifting closer and closer. Most of the group stayed quiet, but a few of them made the fatal mistake- they decided to cut their losses and try to make an escape. The rustling attracted Peter's attention more than anything else had, and he crashed through the bushes and saw them all.

"Found you!" He cried gleefully, hauling them all out of the bush and dropping them in front of his feet. Poppy pouted, her hands neatly folded in her lap as she glared up at him. She wasn't quite sitting on the ground, but hovered an inch or two above the dirt- she didn't like to get her dress dirty, a quirk that the boys couldn't comprehend in the slightest.

"I was hidin real good," she informed him, a frown puckering her face. Peter grinned and ruffled her hair.

"That's alright. You did real good," he told her. Poppy smiled and stood up, smoothing her dress and ignoring the eye rolls of the other Lost Boys.

"Thanks," she told her friend, smiling cheerfully and hopping up into the air, feet skimming over the grass. Peter smiled up at her, the boys completely forgotten as he watched his new favorite playmate.

"No problem, Poppy. No problem a'all."

*

The Lost group- for Poppy refused to be counted as a boy, no matter how outnumbered she was- assembled around the tree, circling it and staring worriedly at Lucky, whose luck, it seemed, had run out. Poppy squinted up at him, any means of getting him down lost in her panic.

They had just been playing an innocent game. They were seeing who could climb the highest in what had to be the tallest tree in all of Neverland. Poppy had done quite well- her dress had been abandoned, traded in for the loose-fitting pants and shirt of the boys. She hadn't stopped at the lowest branch, but didn't make it nearly as far as some of the older boys. She waited patiently on her branch, swinging her legs out and clutching tight to the trunk so to not lose her balance. The twenty or so feet she had climbed seemed much taller from up here than from down there, she decided.

She didn't call on any help from the fairies- the thought didn't even cross her mind. That would be cheating, and no one liked a cheater.

Lucky was finally declared the winner, and boys tumbled down the tree, sliding off branches and swinging themselves into other nearby trees. Poppy jumped nimbly from branch to branch, only a little nervous of losing her balance.

They all assembled in front of the tree, looking to congratulate Lucky on his excellent tree-climbing prowess and go off on another game- but Lucky wasn't there. All heads tilted back to see Lucky balanced precariously on the top of the tree, arms wrapped tightly on a branch nearly bent in two.

The group tried all sorts of things to get him down. Floppy got out his bow and arrow and tried to shoot him down- something Poppy quickly put to an end when Lucky nearly got hit- which was supposedly the point but seemed too dangerous to be of any help. Breezy scaled the tree, and got nearly halfway before losing his balance and scrambling back down.

Poppy completely forgot about her 'talents', as they had come to be known. She didn't need them- the boys treated her just the same, no matter how strange she sometimes was. But when she was suddenly reminded of the power that surged through her, it was all she could do to keep it under control.

Patches, a boy who was blissfully unaware of the challenges Poppy faced when it came to her powers, decided suddenly to bring them to her attention. "'Ey, Poppy. Why don't you do that little flyin' thing and get 'im back down?" He called from the other side of the tree.

Poppy blinked and then froze in place as an icy stream of magic shot down her spine. This wasn't the fairy magic that Peter employed so often- it was something else entirely, that scared her more than a little bit. She didn't know how to control it- she'd never learned how.

She forced herself to take a breath, and then she launched herself at the tree, scrambling past the first few branches in only a few short seconds. She was halfway up the tree before the boys noticed her absence, and then they were all cheering her on.

She was almost there- past Breezy's rescue attempt, past the second-place boy's branch- when she made the fatal mistake of looking down.

She froze in her tracks, hands pulling back down from the branch above her head and wrapping around the tree trunk, which felt a lot less steady than it had thirty feet below. She stood frozen, eyes locked on the ground below, the boys looking like shells so far down below. She could see for miles- this was the tallest tree in this part of the forest, and she was almost at the top- which wasn't actually helping her current situation.

She closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. By doing so she missed Peter appear over the treetops and notice the commotion below. She only noticed when he was at the base of the tree, standing with the rest of the boys looking up at her. If she looked close, she could just make out Tinkerbell darting back and forth frantically.

The fairy shot straight up suddenly, coming to a rest on Poppy's branch and watching her curiously. She said something in her high tinkling voice, and Poppy tried to get enough moisture in her throat to answer.

"I-I'm scared." Tink tilted her head to the side, forehead faintly wrinkled. She rattled something off, and Poppy focused on her instead of the tired feeling she was getting that meant her magic was almost gone for the moment.

"I-I can't. It's too far," she said, trying to make excuses and failing utterly. Tink frowned and yanked Poppy's hands loose, pulling her along the branch and pushing her into the air.

Poppy shrieked as she struggled to keep herself afloat, plummeting and then rising a few feet shakily before losing control again.

She had just gotten her fall steadied when the trickle of magic disappeared, and she dropped like a stone, her long black hair streaming upward. She closed her eyes and braced herself for- her fall had stopped, and now she was flying upwards.

She hazarded a peek and found herself in Peter's arms. He was slowing and now stopping, and then he lowered them back down, setting Poppy on the ground before shooting back up toward Lucky, who by now had nearly lost his grip.

Poppy and the rest of the Losts watched Peter anxiously. Peter wasn't known to care about them- often more wrapped up in his own imagination than the activities of his followers. He was more likely to laugh at Lucky and leave him hanging than do anything to help.

Peter stopped in front of Lucky, standing at eye level of the branch where Lucky was balanced precariously. Poppy snapped once softly, felt a tendril of magic respond, and they could hear everything the skybound pair said.

"Are you stuck?" Peter asked teasingly. Lucky gulped and nodded. "Here-" he pulled Lucky loose and dropped, sending Lucky flying down. The boys panicked, scrambling to the place where Lucky would hit the ground in the hopes of softening his fall. Poppy stayed rooted in place, watching Peter suspiciously. He counted- one, two, three- and then dove toward Lucky, catching up and grabbing him by the arms carefully. He slowed their fall and Lucky landed nimbly on his feet, a little shaken but otherwise alright.

Peter landed in front of the boy, dismissing the other boys with a wave of his hand. The boys watched for a second, and then wandered off into the forest, no doubt bored with the whole matter and anxious for another adventure.

Peter crouched so he was eye level with the smaller boy once more. "You're not going to do that again, are you?" He asked, a hint of malice in his voice. Lucky gulped and shook his head quickly. Peter smiled.

"Good. I won't always be around to help, you know," he said, putting an arm around the other boy and grinning cheerfully. Lucky smiled adoringly at his friend.

"'Course you will. I'm never going to leave. Promise." Peter smiled again, more faintly this time, and looked off in Poppy's direction. She froze, but Peter didn't notice her, staring off over her head, like he was looking at someone that neither she nor Lucky could see.

"Good," he finally said. "Come on, Popp. Let's go play." Poppy ran to catch up, and off they went.

*

It was a quiet day in Neverland, a sad feeling following them wherever they went. The boys sniffled, and Poppy found herself wiping away a tear or two, no matter how hard she tried to hide them.

They all had to ignore Lucky's cries- he was banished, after all. They couldn't talk to him, because he wasn't there anymore. Peter had drawn the door and forced Lucky to walk through. The door was slammed and the key tossed into the Lagoon for the mermaids to play with.*

Neverland was sad that day- Lucky had been a good friend, a loyal follower, a vicious warrior. Just because he was getting taller, he had to leave. Poppy wasn't sure she understood, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.

She wandered away from their little house, unable to take the melancholy air in the room. She heard a faint music outside, and she shimmied up her tree and went out in search of the tune.

She found Peter playing his pipes in a nearby tree, a sad tune wafting from his nimble fingers and making Poppy's lips tremble again. She sat at the bottom of the tree and tilted her head back, glimpsing Peter just barely through the leaves.

"'Lo, Peter," she said, eyes closed. The sun shone brightly through the leaves, as if trying to chase away the coldness that seemed to fill the air. Lucky was sitting only a few feet away, staring blankly at his entrance to their hideaway. He hadn't found a way home yet, and without Peter's help Poppy doubted he ever would. It would be a sad way to spend your days, she decided with a shudder, to wander around Neverland without friends. It could be a dangerous place, what with the Beasts and the Indians and Captain Hook and his gang. Yes, she decided. It was a good thing that they were here, safe with Peter.

"'Lo, Poppy," Peter said, breaking off in the middle of a scale and dropping to a lower branch. "What's wrong?" Poppy sighed, eyes still closed. She could hear Peter shifting around, and soon heard him drop to the ground and settle against the tree next to her.

"Nothin'," she finally said, unable to find the energy to open her eyes and look at him. "Why are you sad?"

"I'm not sad!" The response was too quick, too rushed for it to be real.

"Why were you playin' a sad song, then?" Poppy shot back. Silence.

"He said he wasn't goin' to leave." He finally said. No names were mentioned, although Poppy heard rustling and knew that the subject of their conversation was listening in, however hard they pretended he didn't exist.

"Yeah," she agreed. "But he did."

"He did." Peter agreed sadly. "Are you sad?" Poppy shrugged.

"Practically Perfect People never allow sentiment to- I don't 'member the rest. But it means that there's no point in being sad." Her eyes shut tight as she tried to remember the rest of the saying.**

"Practically perfect?" Peter asked, shifting in his seat. Poppy finally opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Yeah. That's what I'm 'sposed to be."

"Oh." There was silence again.

"I don't know what it means, though," Poppy continued. "How do you be practically perfect?" She tilted her head up to the sky and squinted at the sun.

"It means you never have any fun at all, ever," Peter declared. Poppy frowned at him.

"But I'm 'sposed to be practically perfect and I like fun!" she pouted, her lower lip beginning to waver. Peter bit his lip and considered this for a second.

"You're not practically perfect. You're just plain perfect. Perfect people have all the fun. Practically perfect perfect have to work work work until they get perfect." Poppy mulled this over and smiled.

"Ok. You're perfect, too, Peter." She settled back into the tree, and Peter put an arm around the smaller girl.

"Thanks, Popp."

*

Poppy woke up to hear all the Lost Boys standing around the entrance to Peter's room whispering. She climbed out of her hammock managing for the most part to not fall over and joined the group.

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly, putting her ear on the bear-skin curtain.

"Something's wrong with Peter. He's making funny noises," Floppy informed her. Tink pushed aside the curtain, darted in, and then flew back out. She grabbed a lock of Poppy's hair and pulled her through the curtain. The boys tried to haul her back, but Tink was stronger than she looked.

"Peter?" Poppy asked quietly, standing by the edge of Peter's bed. He rolled over, muttering something under his breath. Poppy climbed onto his bed and touched his arm, and Peter jerked straight up.

"No!" He cried, looking around wildly. His eyes were closed tight- he was fast asleep.

"Shh, Peter. It's me- Poppy." she said quietly, pushing him back down carefully and sticking a pillow on his stomach to keep him from jerking back up and hitting her in the face.

"Don't go-" he moaned, eyes shut tight. "You promised you wouldn't grow up." Poppy knew instinctively what he was talking about- the boy had finally left, disappeared into the night.

"He's gone, Peter," she whispered. Peter sniffed, and a tear leaked out of the corner of his eye.

"He promised," he whispered. "Promised." Poppy pulled him closer to her, wrapping her arms around him.

"It's ok, Peter," she whispered in his ear. "It's ok, I promise."

"Promise..."

"Promise," she said firmly, tapping him on the nose. It was one of their signals- the one they used in times of trouble, that everything was alright. When they couldn't talk, when there weren't words to describe what they were feeling, a finger on the other person's nose would suffice. Breezy had invented it- the day was spent poking each other on the nose and watching the other go cross-eyed.

Peter smiled and settled further into Poppy's arms, his breathing even once more. Poppy smiled and settled into Peter's bed. The two stayed together until morning, when Poppy silently slipped out of his grasp and retreated to her own hammock.

*

Poppy shrieked in excitement when the boys brought in something that was probably supposed to be a cake. It was her birthday, or maybe Peter's, or possibly Floppy's. Either way, it was a celebration, and that demanded cake.

They cut the cake with a smile and all dug in. It was delicious- Poppy could see the boys growing fatter with every bite.

Peter appeared from his room where he had been brooding or something, like he was sometimes prone to do. He snuck up behind her, snatched the cake from her grasp and smeared a bit on her nose with a wicked grin. She glared, and whipped her hand backward, slathering frosting all over his face. He blinked, and that was all the invitation needed for a food fight to begin.

A few minutes later, cake was everywhere, and the boys set out to clean it up- or rather, eating it off everything but the floor.

Poppy was covered in icing- Peter and she had engaged in their own private war, and were covered in the most stuff. Poppy sighed, and licked frosting off her elbow. It was delicious.

Peter watched this feat in morbid fascination and then attempted to recreate the event on his own elbow. He leaned forward and back, tongue sticking out madly, and eventually tripped over a boy and fell flat on his back. Poppy giggled, and then tripped over the same boy on the way to help Peter up. She landed next to him, frosting getting in her hair.

Peter grinned cheekily at her. Poppy glared, and then smiled. "You've got icing on your cheek." Peter's eyes flicked to the side, and his tongue shot out to the side to try and get it.

"Nope. Here, let me get it." she said, giggling. Quickly, she leaned over and kissed his cheek, getting a mouthful of icing in the process. "Got it," she said happily. Peter stared at her, and Poppy's smile faded. "What?"

"It's just- you've got some icing right- here." he said, pointing on his own face. Poppy tried to look, but couldn't. She frowned, and Peter smiled "I'll get it." he leaned in and just as swiftly kissed her on the nose, getting the icing. He licked his lips and smiled. "Do I have icing anywhere else?" Poppy smiled wickedly.

"Right...here." She leaned in close, and their lips touched for a split second.

Icing and kisses- both were sweet, she decided.***

*

Poppy soared through the air aimlessly, rolling over on her back to watch the clouds float by. It was a little more difficult to fly like this, but it was more fun. She peeked over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't about to run into anything and bumped straight into Peter's chest.

She dropped a foot or three in surprise, and quickly righted herself. Tinkerbell scolded Peter laughingly for scaring her friend, and dusted the two in fairy dust before shooting off to join her friends. Poppy smiled at the light feeling fairy dust gave her- she didn't need it hardly at all anymore- the dust was just a part of her, like her 'talents'.

"Boo," Peter whispered, his eyes sparking mischievously. "Guess what?" Poppy studied him warily, wondering what he was getting up to now.

"What?" she said finally, keeping a wary eye on him. He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

"You're it," he breathed. Poppy shivered, and then his words clicked. She stomped her foot mid-air - the satisfaction wasn't as much, but it was still the thought that counted. Peter was already dozens of feet away by the time she angled her body and shot after him.

They chased each other for a bit. Poppy normally ended up 'it' more often- she was faster, but Peter had had more practice than she had- if only by a bit. All in all, they were pretty evenly matched.

Poppy whipped around a corner and spotted Peter crouched in a rock outcropping, unusually still. She floated forward and pounced around the corner, putting her hands on Peter's shoulders and giggling.

"Gotcha!" she said.

"On the contrary," a silky voice said. Poppy's giggles stopped suddenly and she looked up, up, up, into Captain Hook's dark eyes "I think that I've got _you._" She gasped, and Peter shoved her back behind the rocks, out of his grasp.

"Leave her alone, Hook," he ground out. "She didn't do anything." Poppy crouched and watched intently, unable to look away from the fighting pair.

"Come on, boy. I'll make a deal with you. You leave right now, and I won't hurt the girl. I'll give her a head start, how's that?" Hook chuckled wickedly, and Poppy saw his hand slip down to his side, where she could make out the faint outline of a throwing dagger. Peter noticed the motion as well, and he stiffened.

"Fight me, Hook. Leave Poppy out of it." He said angrily, his hand going to his own dagger. Hook grinned mockingly.

"Looks like somebody's got a sweetheart, eh, Smee?" He asked, calling to someone out of view. "Well, boy, you better forget about her, because she's going to grow up, someday. No one wants to stay here forever, do they, Miss?" His last words were directed at her- he had spotted her behind the rocks. His eyes flicked away, and back to her.

Peter took the distraction to lunge at Hook, and the two fought wildly on the rocks.

Poppy scrambled away from the fight and nearly walked straight into the pirates.

The big one- Smee, she assumed- walked toward her carefully, holding open a bag. "Come on, Miss. I don't want to do this, really, but-" Poppy spit at him and leaped into the air.

"Then don't do it," she hissed, blue eyes blazing. One of the pirates swore and raised a pistol, aiming carefully. Poppy's eyes widened and she snapped quickly. The gun fired, and she waved a hand. The bullet shot to the side, so close that a lock of Poppy's hair was whisked to the side.

Without waiting for a second shot, she leaned to the side and rocketed forward, feeling her temper snap and her magic flood her veins. She snatched Peter by the collar of his shirt and yanked him out of Hook's reach, zooming forward determinedly.

"Get up!" She hissed. Peter blinked at her before her words clicked and he leaped into the air, shooting forward just underneath her. They could hear the pirates cursing and shooting off their guns behind them, but they shot over the lagoon and into the safety of the forest.

Poppy slowed finally, and landed on a log lightly, breathing hard. Peter put an arm around her, and she pulled him close, burying her head in his shoulder. He wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"It's ok," he promised. "I won't let Hook near you. He's just a codfish, don't worry," he said softly. Poppy looked up, eyes bright.

"He was trying to hurt you," she said quietly. Peter smiled bitterly.

"I can take care of him, don't worry," he said. Poppy bit her lip.

"I don't want you to get hurt," she said, even more quietly. Peter kissed her swiftly, and hopped into the air.

"He can't hurt me! I'm Peter Pan! It's against the rules!" he said, laughing and darting around the clearing.

"He can hurt you, Peter! Don't you see that!" Poppy cried, bringing Peter to a halt in front of her. "I don't want you to get hurt," she said again. Peter put a hand on her chin, making her meet his eyes.

"I won't let him hurt me, Popp. I promise. You don't have to worry. I'll never leave you. Never never never," he told her. Poppy sniffed.

"Promise?" He smiled and kissed once more.

"Promise."

*

Poppy stared out the window and sighed for the twelfth time that day. It was raining, and the fire wouldn't start. After playing out in the rain for hours, they were cold, wet, and miserable. Peter joined her at the window and stared out into the rain, his thumb tracing idle circles on her hand. She smiled faintly up at him, but her smile faded as her attention flicked back to the window.

"What's wrong?" he asked her. She shrugged. She had gotten bigger- but then, so had Peter. They all had, but Peter didn't notice that kind of thing lately. As long as none of them were bigger than him, he figured it was alright. Besides, babies were getting smarter now, and less and less were arriving at Neverland.

"I was just wondering..."

"What?" he prodded. He had nothing else to do, and being bored wasn't something he liked. Poppy turned to face him, looking up just a bit- he was only an inch taller than her now.

"Where did we come from?" The innocent question stopped Peter in his tracks. How to explain that Neverland was the only thing he'd ever known? How to explain that when Lost Boys left, they couldn't come back? None that Peter knew had ever come back, not since the old person in charge had left, back when he was just a Lost Boy, too.

"Well- babies fall out of their prams and-"

"Yes, I know that," Poppy said impatiently. "I mean, where were the prams? I want to know about that place. Neverland just seems so- I don't know, but I want to know what else is out there." Peter hesitated, trying to ignore the searching look in Poppy's eyes that told him that she knew that he knew and she wanted to know.

"It's a place called London," he finally gave in. "I was born there, and I left. I never went back." Poppy's eyes had lit up at London, her old boredom gone.

"I remember a place called London!" she said excitedly. "With lights and people- grownup people, ugh- and toys and food and- and- stories! And all sorts of things! Oh, Peter, could we go see it?" Peter hesitated- rainy-day chatter was one thing, plans to leave Neverland were something else entirely.

"We'd have to come back real quick, Popp." Poppy ignored this warning and began bouncing around.

"I know, but still! Just for a little bit, Peter! We can bring the Lost Boys if they want, or we could just go, the two of us, and find people to bring back! Oh, it would be wonderful! Can we go, Peter, can we?" She was only inches away, a wild longing in her eyes that scared Peter just a little bit. He was losing her, he realized suddenly, and now he was faced with a choice.

He could refuse, tell her that there was no way, and risk her leaving on her own and not ever see her again. Or, he could go with her, let her see that the real world wasn't what she thought it was, that it was filled with stuffy grownups and people that didn't care about children, and have her come back home with him and be happy again. Either way he ran the risk of losing her, the girl he realized that he wouldn't like living without.

"Yeah, Poppy. We can go," he said, holding back his sigh with only a little difficulty. He smiled faintly at her squeal and smiled a little more when she kissed him in front of all the Lost Boys, before disappearing to gather her things. He headed toward his bedroom to gather his things, hoping that he hadn't just made a terrible mistake.

*

London was beautiful, decided Poppy, now going by Mary. Mary Poppins, Peter had told her. That was her name when she first came to Neverland. She liked it- it sounded prim and proper. She smiled happily, then giggled at her folly. She wasn't some stuck-up spoiled girl. She was Poppy, a Lost Girl, Peter Pan's best friend-and-maybe-something-more.

Mary skipped through the city, Peter in tow. They had been all over the city, and were looking for a place to spend the night. Mary had a dress, something she hadn't worn in ages and wasn't sure if she liked. She shrugged- that was what girls her age were expected to wear, so she wore it.

They reached a park and entered it quickly, evading the policeman easily and finding a tree that would work for a night's sleep. She snapped and rose quickly up to the top of the tree, settling in happily. Peter smiled happily at her and leaned out on a branch, watching the city life.

"Do you like it here?" He asked her quietly. Mary nodded happily and leaned on Peter's leg.

"Love it. Thank you for bringing me here," murmured, settling down, eyes heavy. Peter smiled down at her.

"Welcome. Night, Popp- Mary."

*

Peter led Mary down the street, holding his hand in front of her face. Mary giggled and tried to peek around his hand but failed. "Where are we going, Peter?" she asked, giggling madly.

"Uh-uh, not telling!" He said wickedly. He felt Mary smile, and her hand reached up. He tightened his grip on her, but she reached over her head and felt his face until she found his nose. She tapped it with a satisfied smile, and Peter grinned. He moved one of his fingers away from her eyes to tap her nose as well.

He shifted his grip to cover her eyes again, and dug in his pocket with his free hand. "Almost, just a few more steps- here." He grabbed the key and pressed into Mary's hand. He wrapped his hand around Mary's and guided it toward the lock, turning the key and pushing the door open.

"Ta-da!" He said, pulling his hand away from Mary's eyes. She took in the small apartment, a smile lurking in the corner of her mouth. She turned around, a question in her eyes.

"I got some money, and I figured that we can't spend all our time in that tree, and if we're going to stay here for a while-" he was cut off by Mary's lips on his, and he shut up happily, enjoying the quiet moment when it was just him and Mary and happiness. If he never got back to Neverland and instead spent his whole life like this, he decided, it might just be worth it.

*

Mary skipped through the door, calling Peter's name cheerfully. She had gotten a job as a nanny to make sure they could pay the rent and found that she loved it. It was like taming the Lost Boys all over again. She loved children and working with them- she wasn't that much older, after all, and she still felt like a child for the most part.

"Peter!" she cried again.

"Upstairs!" he called, from what sounded like their bedroom. Mary walked down the hall slowly, puzzling over something in her mind.

They had spent a lot of time here, more time than either she or Peter had expected. She found herself thinking that she didn't really want to go back to Neverland anymore. She liked it here- even though some things troubled her.

One of the worst things she had discovered was that people didn't really believe in Peter Pan anymore, which terrified her. The horrible thing was that she was starting to doubt it all- had the whole thing been real? Were the Lost Boys still in Neverland waiting for them? Could she fly?

She decided to test it- she closed her eyes and searched for that familiar floaty feeling. She crept up on her tiptoes and stepped forward. Her foot hit the ground heavily, and she tripped forward with a _thump_. Her eyes widened and she nearly crashed into the door. She straightened and sighed heavily, closing her eyes. So maybe it wasn't real. At least, not anymore.

She closed her eyes and attempted to get her thoughts straight, but it was hard. She didn't want to lose Peter- that would hurt more than anything- but she didn't want to leave, not now when she was so happy. Mary stopped by the door and hesitated. Did she really want to do this? She had no choice. She paused for one more second, and knocked twice on the door.

"Peter?" She called softly. "May I come in?" She heard a muffled consent and opened the door to find Peter throwing a bundle of clothes into a hastily-prepared knapsack. He looked normal, just like all the boys she saw on the street. Another hint of doubt wormed into her mind.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her plans forgotten. He stared at her, as if she had just questioned something painstakingly obvious.

"We have to leave, Mary. I stayed for you. Now we have to go back home." Peter told her. "Hurry up and pack."

"I won't go back," Mary said suddenly. Peter dropped his knapsack on his foot.

"What?"

"I'm not leaving, Peter. I'm happy here," She said.

"But what about Neverland?" He said sharply, unconsciously rubbing his left foot. He hovered almost an inch off the ground, giving him a height advantage over her."Poppy, we have to go back. Neverland needs us." She ignored the pleading look on his face and the way he had slipped into calling her by her pet name.

"I'm not a child anymore, Peter," she said, slipping into her little speech again. "I can't let the kids down- they need me." Peter's face hardened suddenly.

"What about the Lost Boys, _Mary_," he sneered, her name a joke on his lips. "They need you, too. We need you. Mary, I'm _growing up._ It can't happen. We need to go back."

"They'll be just fine. They can take care of themselves. I can't-" Mary was tripping over her words now, unsure what to do, unsure what to say about this new turn of events.

"I'm too old to believe in it, Peter. It's all stories, don't you see?" Peter stumbled back suddenly, his back against the wall.

"What are you saying, Mary. Are you saying that you don't believe in- in fairies? You need to take it back, Poppy. You can't say things like that, don't you understand-"

"I _do_ understand, Peter! It's not that I don't believe in fairies, of course I believe in fairies, how could I not?" she burst out, unable to take the accusing look on his face.

"Then what don't you believe in?" Peter pressed, his voice low and dangerous.

"You, alright! I don't believe in Peter Pan, Peter. It's just stories, stories you tell children, none of it is real. It's just stories about faith and trust and- and-" Mary's voice broke. Peter stared at her, horrified.

"Poppy- Mary- I don't-don't do this."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the first tear slipping down her face.

"You don't understand. If you don't believe in me, you don't believe in you. We're one and the same, remember?" He asked her softly, his finger lighting on the tip of her nose in a way that almost mocked her.

"I'm trying, Peter. I've tried so hard- I'm too tired to understand anymore. There's too much in between. There's too much distance between here and Neverland. I don't know what's real anymore." she said, unable to look up and let him see her tears.

"Poppy-" Peter whispered- and then he broke off and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He took his knapsack and darted out the window.

Mary sat on the bed numbly, torn between racing after Peter or closing the window. Her tears eventually lulled her to sleep, and she curled up on the bed, trying to block out the loneliness.

Peter crept back into the room, having not gone far at all before he was drawn back. He watched her sleeping form for a moment or two, and made up his mind. He crept close and took out his dagger quietly.

A few quick cuts and it was done. Her shadow tucked into his bag, he kissed her once more on the top of the head.****

"Goodbye, love," he whispered, before shooting out the window and off into the night. He wasn't sad- far from it. It must have been raining, because there was no other explanation for the wet stuff by his eyes.

*

Mary woke when the window slammed shut and a sense of wrongness overwhelmed her. She looked down to find her shadow missing and drew in a breath sharply.

In a heartbeat she was at the window, scanning the skies desperately for him. "Peter!" she cried. "Peter!" And there he was, just across the street, up high and rising faster and he _could _fly and it _was _real, and oh, what had she done!

"Peter, please!" She cried as loud as she dared. His teeth flashed in the night, and his arm rose. He moved it to the side, down, across, and up again- a door. He opened the door, stepped backward through it, tipped his hat, and closed the door, before turning away and soaring off into the night.

Mary stayed at the window for a long time, watching the last tie to the only life she'd ever known fly away, her heart in tow.

_*_

_I am not a child now  
I can take care of myself  
I mustn't let them down now  
Mustn't let them see me cry  
I'm fine, I'm fine_

I'm too tired to listen  
I'm too old to believe  
All these childish stories  
There is no such thing as faith  
And trust and pixie dust

I'll try  
But it's so hard to believe  
I'll try  
But I can't see what you see  
I'll try, I'll try, I'll try...

*

***Referencing ****Peter Pan in Scarlet**** here, the 'official' sequel. When Peter banished someone, he drew them a door and forced them through, then closed the door behind them. Once the door was closed, the person no longer existed to them. Twisted logic, but…that's Neverland.**

****I honestly couldn't remember the saying. Oh well… practically perfect people never allow sentiment to muddle their thinking, right? It didn't sound right when I was trying to remember….**

*****Young love…. **

******Again referencing ****Peter Pan in Scarlet****- if someone doesn't have their shadow they can't fly. I'm not quite sure how that fits with the first one, where the whole problem was that Peter didn't have his shadow, but WHATEVER.**

**I know it's a crossover, but I'm keeping it in Mary Poppins mostly because it's Mary's story more than Peter's. **

**Merry Christmas!! Reviews make excellent presents… :D**

**Oh, lyrics are "I'll Try" by Jesse McCartney. It's a remix of a song from ****Return to Neverland. ****Whenever I hear that song I think of Mary and Peter fighting and him leaving. Sadness…over it. **

**Merry Christmas, luvs.**

**Cocoa =D**

**P.S. PREVIEW!!**

Bert walked a familiar path slowly through the rain. He walked past the park, walked past the lightpost, and stopped. He leaned back against the lightpost and stared at the door of the flat across the street, wondering if its occupant would come out today.

He stood there for a moment, the rain trickling through his hair and rinsing the soot from his clothes. His eyes were trained on the house, watching for a sign. A pale face flickered by at the window, and caught Bert's attention. He smiled softly, and waited a moment or two more.

His patience was soon rewarded. Mary Poppins opened the door of her flat and waved him over with a quick flick of her long fingers. Bert trotted across the street, water streaming from his hair, and stopped in front of her door, scarcely two feet away from the smaller figure.


End file.
